All That Jazz
by Apathyisdeath
Summary: Tabris, Alistair and Zevran take a night off to sneak out for a quick drink...or maybe a few. Drinking is bad, kiddies! People lose inhibitions when drunk.. Alistair/PC.
1. Neon and Chrome

_A/N: I remember thinking to myself the other day "There is too much Dragon Age related angst on !". I happen to know most of you lot were with me in the KOTOR fandom, and remember all the fun we had there? We need to have more fun fics, people! Heh. Anyway, here's my contribution. This is going to be a short story, two or three chapters long. There was just too much oppurtunity to leave it as a one-shot! There are so many quotes from different places here. Try to figure 'em out! ;D  
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_"In the evenin', I gotta roam, can't sleep in the city of neon and chrome. Feels too damn much like home, where the Spanish babies cry. So let's find a bar. So dark we forget who we are. Where all the scars from the 'nevers' and 'maybes' die...You're sweet, wanna hit the street? Wanna wail at the moon like a cat in heat?"_

_~ Mimi Marquez, RENT._

_All That Jazz  
_**Chapter One**

It was nearly the second hour of the morning and a deafening hush fell on the camp; except for the occasional giggle. Alistair had not slept so well in a long time. He had no nightmares, no dreams-that-were-actually-nightmares and no flashbacks. He was pretty sure he was...dreaming.

_Alistair found himself in what felt like Arl Eamon's home, exactly the one he grew up in. The long corridors were not easy to forget; Arlessa Isolde had made him stand in the corners of many of them when he had gotten covered in mud as a child. But this time he was not facing the wall, he was standing at the end of a particular corridor, facing an open door. That would probably explain why he felt a chilly breeze running through his hair. It was quite calming to be back here. There was the familiar, inviting smell of dinner that made Alistair grin excitedly. The corridor did, rather strangely, appear to be completely devoid of any activity. Usually there would be some of the servants scrubbing the floors or transporting washed linens, completing chores. Alistair pressed a hand against an ajar door next to him and it swung open to reveal an empty room; no furniture and no people. Shaking his head slightly, Alistair made his way over to the open door at the end of the corridor._

_There didn't seem to be anything behind the door, just total blackness, but he could feel a tremendous excitement building up in his chest. He was not yet at the door when a ghostly figure appeared. It was a woman much shorter than himself; her silvery hair seemed to fall around her head, matching her smooth, spangled dress that wound its way around her form almost impossibly. Several matching bangles were worn on her arms, meeting an inky, swirling tattoo on her right forearm. They jingled slightly as she leant over to investigate the glowing candle she held in her hand. She must have sensed his staring, as she quickly flung her head up to meet his eyes, her lips parted slightly._

_"Alistair?" She asked, her voice echoing through the corridor. A grin lit up her face as she held out her hand. "Come on, it's this way." And with that, she snuffed out the candle._

Trija had been calling Alistair's name for a while and she was starting to get annoyed.

"Alistair, wake up. Wake up, Wonderboy." The elf poked her head through the entrance of the tent. She grinned at his sleeping form and threw the tent flap behind her eagerly. This seemed to bring him nearer to consciousness. It was quite hard to recognise the elf; her normal blue eyeshadow was replaced with dark, smoky kohl, her usual pale lips were stained dark-red and her normally tied back hair was relaxed to her shoulders. Trija lowered herself onto the floor and gently started to shake his shoulder.

"Wake up, dammit. This is important." Alistair groaned slightly in his sleep. Noticing his bare chest, Trija chuckled and wolf-whistled, hoping he would see the funny side. She still grinned regardless, feeling the urge to kiss his parted lips. As soon as she shook the thought out of her head, his eyes flickered open sleepily only to stare up at her in disbelief.

"Why are you in my tent?" He mumbled. To this, she just beamed and winked.

"Why am I not?" She replied saucily. Sitting up, Alistair pretended to look deep in thought. Trija took this oppurtunity to edge closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him.

"Hmmm..I don't know." He whispered. Their faces were now inches away from each other, and Trija chose the moment to grab his hand and lead him towards the entrance of the tent.

"Come on, we're going somewhere!" She announced.

"Wait, what? Where?"

"You forgot 'why?'. And 'who?'" Trija quipped.

"Oh yes, very funny, Tabris."

Trija responded by tugging Alistair's hand.

"Come on-"

"Wait, can I at least put a shirt on?" He asked incredulously. Trija pouted.

"Aw, really?" She giggled to herself. "Fine. I suppose then."

Winking once more, she exited the tent to wait outside. When he reappeared the young woman linked her arm through his.

"So, what are we actually doing?" Alistair tried to ask in a nonchalant way.

"Youuu'll see," She giggled again. Seeing his puzzled expression, she added, "Fine, we're going out somewhere. Perhaps for a drink. That enough?"

"Not really. Isn't it enough that I fight darkspawn?" He pretended to be upset.

"Nope!" She grinned back.

"Isn't it enough that I put up every day with a temperamental, selfish, abusive-"

"Sexy..." Trija interrupted.

"Alright, sexy-"

"Talented, brilliant-"

"Infuriating!"

"Funny!"

"You can be a bit immature..."

"Post-modern goddess!"

"And oh-so modest."

Trija just laughed heartily.

"Wait, 'sexy'?" She said in between laughs.

"You said it!"

"You know what? Last night I had this dream-"

"Was I involved?" Came the unmistakable lilt of one of Trija's favourite accents. She was, for once, quite disappointed to hear it.

"Zevran!" She tried to sound pleased. "Easy, Wonderboy." She added under her breath. The good-looking elf stepped out of the shadows formed around his tent where he could have been watching them.

"Those skills the Crows taught you come in handy for eavesdropping, as well as murdering?" Alistair growled. Zevran laughed blatantly at this.

"You thought I would waste my time eavesdropping? I did however, happen to hear you are going somewhere. Can I come?" He smirked, flashing his pearly-whites.

"Oh, but Zevran," Trija smirked back. "The last time you took me somewhere we went to The Gilded Dildo."

Zevran just shrugged and Trija dared not look at Alistair in case she laughed too hard.

"What can I say? It's a good place."

Trija sighed despite herself.

"Fine, lead on."

**To be continued...**

Review and Zevran will take you to The Gilded Dildo ;D. Hahah.


	2. Chicken

_A/N: Wow, thanks to the whole *3* (haha) people who reviewed the last chapter. You guys rock! And all the people who favourited or put me on Story Alert (about 15 or 16) you rock also! I hope you'll pluck up the courage to review this time. Don't be shy! If you squint, there will be a (*drumroll*) __**KOTOR II **__quote! So, keep your eyes peeled for that. Thanks for doing whatever you did with the last chapter. If my calculations are correct there will be two more chapters. Or three if I'm really that boring. Oh, oh and look out for some kind of __**Back to the Future**__ reference. Boy do I love those movies!_

**Chapter Two**_  
"You're everything that I want and ask for,_

_You're all that I'd dreamed._

_Who wouldn't be the one you love?_

_Who wouldn't stand inside your love?_

_Protected and the lover,  
Of a pure soul and beautiful you.  
Don't understand,_

_Don't feel me now._

_I will breathe for the both of us."  
~ Stand Inside Your Love - The Smashing Pumpkins._

The road to Denerim was longer than Alistair remembered. It was very different to be travelling it not shielded by his usual chainmail. It made him feel exposed to the chilly night air. Hearing Trija and Zevran chatting and laughing together was making his skin crawl and his stomach knot around itself. Alistair didn't like it at all, so he concentrated his gaze on passing bushes and trees.

"Let's just hope we don't run in to bandits." He heard Zevran chuckle. Turning around to reply smartly, Alistair was stopped by Trija.  
"Bandits? We'd have to run as fast as possible. That would look _really_ good, wouldn't it? The only people able to save Ferelden, running away from a couple of bandits. Two of them Grey Wardens, as well." Trija replied.  
"Ah yes. But I'm sure we will think of something." Zevran shrugged.  
"Then we'll just have to bamboozle them!" Alistair joked, pausing for a moment. "'You want my money, bandit? But what is the opposite of_ opposite_? Consider yourself bamboozled!'"  
Trija snorted in a most unlady-like way at this, yet Zevran did not seem impressed. Alistair found himself laughing at the _way_ she laughed.  
"What an adorable laugh!"  
"Oh no, I-I hate my laugh!" She said, snorting harder and shivering in the bitter winds at the same time. Not even a moment after this, Zevran turned his head down to take a look at Trija. She smiled warmly up at him, still trying not to shiver. Alistair's stomach twisted around itself again.  
"Are you cold, my dear?" The male elf beamed down at her as she nodded, and without hesitation, placed a warm arm around her shoulders. Trija stopped for a second, but smiled appreciatively at him. Seeing Zevran wink back made Alistair's stomach twist into knots again. Focusing again on the bushes and trees, Alistair willed the road to end soon and for Denerim to come into sight.

"So were are we actually going this time? As I recall The Gilded Dildo isn't in Denerim." Trija asked. Zevran chuckled.  
"No, there aren't many taverns in Denerim. A little place my old friends used to take me; The Gnawed Noble."  
"Oh, yes; that's a _great_ place to go," Alistair scoffed. "Full of mercenaries and low-lifes."  
"A-ha, if you dare to go in the back rooms, you mean." Zevran winked. Trija piped up  
"Anyway, I think it's best that we do go somewhere...fairly normal. Obviously, being the good little elf that I am, I have absolutely no idea where Denerim's taverns may or may not be. So lead on, Zevran!"

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Alistair thought that when they got there the tavern would be closed, but it wasn't. The small building seemed to be the only source of noise in the quiet city. Seeming to have escaped from Zevran, Trija placed her hand on the door and turned to look at her companions.  
"Ready," she grinned. "...Or not?" Pushing the door open, it seemed like a cloud of smoke escaped from the tavern. Clearing his throat and cutting in front of Zevran so that he wasn't last inside, Alistair said,  
"Now let's not try to make any trouble." Looking pointedly at Trija as she stepped inside.  
"What?! Trouble? Me?" She said, mimicking shock. "I've never even heard of such a thing, Wonderboy. Trouble in a tavern! What would my father say?"

All three of them were inside now. Alistair took in the tavern. It was in the typical style of a tavern; smoky, with the sharp smell of mead and wine stinging his nostrils, the rooms decorated with friendly colours that would not be so harsh on drunken eyes. Trija was already heading for the bartender.  
"Wait, where are you going?" Alistair asked. He mentally slapped himself.  
"For a drink! You know....glug glug." She mimed drinking.  
"Er-I know. I'll go sit down then."  
Trija rolled her eyes but still grinned at him. _Oh great_, Alistair thought, _awkward silence with Zevran. Yet again._

* * *  
Trija was thrilled that she had managed to sneak out of the camp with Alistair without anyone noticing. Well....Zevran had spotted them, but it could have been much worse. Wynne could have caught them as she was on a late-night stroll, it would look like they were sneaking out like rebellious teenagers. Laughing to herself, Trija placed her arms on the bar. The smell of mead was thicker here and a few "midnight men", as her father used to call them, were attempting to keep upright nearby. One tipsy man seemed to notice her.

"I know you.." He slurred, pointing a quivering finger at her. Trija cursed under her breath. Recognised so quickly.  
"Yes," she sighed. "Grey Warden, elf, blah de blah. I'm off duty now, so if you don't-"  
"No, not that one. You're were from th' Alienage. I remember you. Killed Vaughan." He seemed to find this hilarious, letting out a roaring laugh. Trija quickly ordered three pints of mead and tried to ignore the drunk.  
"No, no, lissen, he wasn't a bad man." Trija narrowed her eyes.  
"'Wasn't a bad man'?!" She repeated incredulously. "You don't even know part of the story. I'll have you know he raped my cousin." Breathing a sigh of relief when her drinks arrived, Trija picked them up in her hands. The man laughed his roaring laugh again, shaking his head wildly.  
"Prolly deserve it, ya know. Silly knife-ear. Wha' she doin' in a castle anyway? Washin' some dishes I hope.." He hiccupped loudly. Trija shook her head. This was nothing new from humans. Trija turned to walk back to her friends. She was not easily aggravated.  
"Go on, elfy. Run awaaay. That the problem?" Trija gritted her teeth together and took a step away. "You a little chicken? Nothin' but a little chicken."  
Trija stopped in her tracks, turning her head slowly.  
"Did you just call me a chicken?" She asked dangerously. The man hiccupped again.  
"I did!" He followed this with a series of clucking noises. Placing her drinks on the nearest table, Trija turned around to face him._  
"_No one....calls me a chicken."

"Trija!" A voice was calling her. It was Alistair. He was sitting at a table with Zevran. Both seemed equally annoyed. "Got the drinks yet?" Trija seemed to be back in reality. She quickly picked up the cold drinks in her sweating palms, replying quickly.  
"Er, yes, I'll be right there!" She shot one last evil look at the drunken man, but it seemed he was already ordering his next pint.

Getting to the table and placing the pints down, Trija shuddered. She sat down heavily in her seat.  
"No trouble, remember?" Alistair murmured with concerned eyes, taking a sip of mead. Trija grumbled back, relaxing into her chair.  
"Yeah, I remember."

* * *  
It was now many drinks later. Nearly all patrons were gone, except themselves. Zevran was no longer sitting with them, probably drawn to the bar by a pretty face. Trija was spectacularily drunk. She was struggling to stay upright in her chair. Alistair had not had much to drink so far and felt only slightly light-headed. He decided he was going to be the responsible one tonight. He watched Trija swaying in her seat, and he had to stifle a laugh, resulting in a snort.  
"You okay?" He asked her.  
"Of course I am!" She slurred, grinning an exaggerated grin.  
"You know, you haven't _really_ had that much to d-"  
"Hey, do you know how many times I got drunk in the Alienage?" She pointed a finger at him, and the held it up. "Once! And that was at someone's wedding. Could have been mine, who knows?" She shrugged drunkenly and reached out for more mead. Alistair raised an eyebrow but remembered what she had said once about her arranged marriage. He moved the mead out of her reach.  
"Aaand I think you've had enough for tonight." Trija gasped and tried to retrieve it. Alistair quickly downed it.  
"Hah!" Trija crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "No more, you're drunk enough."  
"Drunk? Me?! I...I am perfectly sober." She let her head fall onto the table. "Stupid pretty boy."

**To be continued...**_**  
**__I'm sure we've all had nights like this...I'm sure we'll be getting more drunk in the next chapter. Where the heck has Zevran gotten to? Next chapter will be fun. Last chapter will be fluffy. Sorry for some mistakes, they're unchecked._


End file.
